


Stuck With the Winchesters: Gag Reel and Outtakes

by Carry_on_Wayward_Daughter



Series: Stuck With the Winchesters [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Scenes, Clumsiness, Deleted Scenes, F/F, F/M, Humor, Outtakes, Tongue Tied, gag reel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:46:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3184286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carry_on_Wayward_Daughter/pseuds/Carry_on_Wayward_Daughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everything went smoothly in the writing process. As always, there were a few moments of profound klutziness that could very well have resulted in tragedy, but, in fact, made us laugh. The cast of SWW enjoyed themselves and we hope you do, too!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so... This isn't the best I've ever done, but I did what little I could with my limited resources, i.e., sketch books and PhotoShop


	2. Angela Lynn Crosse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a picture of Angela that I did. It's not perfect, but I'm happy with it. I'd have liked to do a little more with it, but here we go

 


	3. Prank War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is set after Sam and Dean get back from the werewolf hunt and Dean decides to get back at Angela for the whole spoon incident on her first day with them. It's been a while since then, but hey... revenge is a dish best served cold

Sam was sitting down at the table, drinking his coffee and looking for another case, when he heard a high pitched, ear-splitting shriek. Not a scream, a shriek, loud and furious. He winced and covered his ears even as a huge grin spread across Dean's face.

Suddenly, Angela was running into the kitchen behind Dean, her hood pulled tight over her head, which was also wrapped up in a towel. Snarling, she leapt onto Dean's back, wrapping her small arms around his neck, a determined and infuriated look on her face. The young woman seemed intent on choking the life out of his brother who, for it all, couldn't seem to stop laughing.

"You asshole!" she yelled, her arms tightening around the hunter's throat. He started turning purple, though Sam couldn't decide if it was because he was laughing so hard or the inability to breathe. Either way, the taller Winchester carefully pried the young woman from his brother, who put his hands on his knees and continued to laugh.

Angela shrieked and flailed her arms and legs, trying to land a hit on the man and Sam scowled as he set her on the ground, hands on her shoulders.

"Ange, what's wrong?" he demanded. "Why are you freaking out?"

The girl's eyes were wide and dark brown in her fury and she pointed an accusatory finger at his brother.

"He fucked with my shampoo!" she snarled. Sam froze and didn't know whether to laugh or be horrified.

"He- he didn't put Nair in it-- did he?" he asked quietly, remembering that God awful prank. Sam'd had to wear a beanie for _weeks_ until his hair grew back.

"I wish," she snapped, glaring at the laughing hunter. She pulled down her hoodie and ripped off the towel. "He put blonde hair dye in it!"

Sam blinked. Sure enough, her once midnight-black hair was now a bright, shining gold color that looked out of place on her head. It didn't look bad, but after knowing her for the few weeks that he had, she looked odd.

Dean laughed harder and Sam had to grab Angela about the waist to keep her from mauling his brother. She was trembling and shaking in her rage, a truly terrifying fire in her eyes that he'd never seen before as she glared at Dean.

"You think this is funny, you dick?" she hissed, hands balled into fists. Her teeth were clenched as she spat her words through them.

"Oh, come on, kid," he gasped, holding his side. "You don't look-- _that bad_!" The hunter fell into another fit of laughter and it took all of Sam's will not to join him. Doing so probably would've been equal to signing his own death warrant, if the look in the girl's eyes was anything to judge by.

She stilled and narrowed her eyes at Dean, all trembling and shaking gone, and she walked up to him, leaning forward and getting into his personal space. Dean grinned at her even as he leaned away.

"You think this is funny?" she asked calmly. "You like pranks? Fine. You, sir, have just declared war, and I guarantee you, you are _not_ going to like the outcome. It will be brutal, it will be bloody and I _will_ be the victor. You wanna go? _Bring_ it, bitch."

With that, the young woman turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her long, blonde hair trailing behind her as she yelled for Cas to take her to the store so she could buy some black hair dye.

Sam covered his face with his hands and tried hard not to laugh.

"She really thinks she can scare _me_?" Dean scoffed as he returned to his own coffee. "Kid doesn't get that I _invented_ prank wars."

"Why--" Sam barked out a half-choked laugh before collecting himself. "Why would you do that?"

Dean grinned over at him.

"Kid thought I forgot about the spoon."

Sam sighed. Yeah. Angela had asked for it. She was just lucky that Dean had let her get over the whole warlock thing before he started in with the pranks.

He got up, taking his now empty coffee cup over to the sink to rinse it out.

"Whatever it is you're up to, Dean, whatever you've got planned next, just do me a favor."

"What?"

Sam sent his brother a hard look.

"Leave. Me. _Out_ of it."

 

Angela returned to the bunker two hours after the little incident, her hair back to normal. She told Sam that, instead of re-dying her hair, she'd gone to a proffessional and had the blonde dye removed... and she'd used one of Dean's many stolen credit cards.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Gee, Ange, what a _great_ idea for revenge."

"Oh, no, Sammy," she replied, an evil grin lighting up her face. "That wasn't my prank. Not even close. No, I meant it when I told Dean that it was going to be brutal. He thinks that was cute? Guy has _no_ idea what he's in for."

Sam chilled at the evil little glow in her eyes as he watched the gears turn in her head.

"Hey," he said, taking her arm gently. "Dean's an ass, but he's still my brother." She frowned at that.

"So?" she asked curiously.

"So... try not to kill him...?"

She blinked, then laughed.

"Oh, trust me, Sam. Killing Dean would be an act of mercy... besides, knowing you guys, he'd probably just come back, pissed as hell. No, what I have planned for him is much, _much_ worse than death."

For a minute, Sam thought he saw a little flash of the trickster in her eyes and he prayed to whoever was listening to protect his brother.

 

Sam and Angela were doing research when it happened. It had been a quiet day for the most part, and dinner had passed by uneventfully, and the guys had thought that maybe, just maybe, Angela had decided to forgive and forget. Sam had thanked God, or Gabriel or whoever was responsible for the lack of retaliation on Angela's part. He was able to relax and was thankful that he wouldn't have to listen to Dean whine and bitch.

And he was relaxed, reading with Angela in the study, quiet and content.

At least until he heard a lot of banging around upstairs, and a loud shout.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

Immediately, Angela dipped her head, seemingly intent on her book, but Sam saw the wicked smile spread across her face. His stomach dropped. Oh, God. What had she done?

"SHIT! IT FUCKING _BURNS_!"

"Ange," he whispered as Dean continued shouting out a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush. "Please tell me you didn't have anything to do with this."

She looked up at him, the picture of innocence... aside from the mad gleam in her eyes.

"Me?" she asked sweetly. "Why would you think that, Sammy?"

"What did you _do_?"

" _SON_ OF A _FUCK_!"

"I didn't do anything," she said, then grinned and leaned closer, whispering to him. "Okay, so maybe I put a little Icy Hot in his aftershave."

Sam choked on air as he tried not to laugh at that, just magining Dean's complete discomfort. Aftershave in itself was hell, but add a little Icy Hot to it....

"Damn, Angie," Sam laughed. "Are you sure Gabriel isn't possessing you?"

She scoffed.

"Please," she said, waving her hand. "Gabe only _wishes_ he could pull off what I can." She grinned and leaned back triumphantly. "Besides, this is only the beginning."

 

Sure enough, Dean retaliated that very night and, with no time to come up with a crazy scheme for vengeance, Angela was unable to prank him back.

Apparently, Dean thought that putting itching powder on her sheets was a good idea. Almost as soon as she laid down to go to sleep, she started running through the bunker, itching and scratching wherever she'd been exposed, and considering she was wearing shorts and a T shirt to sleep in the heat, it was a _lot_ of itching and scratching.

"Shit!" she cried out as she ran past Sam, her hands practically tearing at her skin. "Shit! _Fuck_!"

"Ange?"

"Your brother is _sooo_ fuckin' dead!"

Sam couldn't help but laugh at her. Normally, coarse language like that was unattractive coming from _any_ one, but Angela... it somehow made him laugh when he knew he shouldn't.

"You should know by now that Dean is probably always going to have the last laugh."

She stopped running to walk back up to him, still scratching her arms, fire burning in her eyes.

"Your brother," she drawled, lifting a leg behind to scratch at her ankle and calf, "has obviously never heard the saying, _Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,_ and lemme tell ya, Sammy. I'm feelin' pretty damned scorned right about now."

 

The next day, the boys started to head out, said they were going to the diner across town to give Angie a break from cooking. While she wasn't much one for dinner, she loved cooking breakfast and never cooked the same thing twice.

"You wanna come with us?" Sam asked as Dean shot him a look.

"Dude! No fraternizing with the enemy!" he hissed. Sam scowled down at his brother and pulled his arm from his grasp.

"This little war of yours is _yours_ , not mine. I'm a neutral party in all this. She's not the enemy and you're just a dumbass who's practically begging for whatever it is she's got cooked up next for you."

Dean glowered at him in suspicion and Sam sighed, knowing what was coming next.

"You know what it is, don't you?"

"No, Dean, I don't."

"The fuck you don't!" he snapped. "Tell me!"

Angela scoffed.

"Please," she said. "As if I would share my plans of mass destruction with anyone but Loki."

Dean paled at that.

"There's no way in hell you're getting trickster/archangel help," he growled weakly. "That's cheating."

She grinned up at him evilly as she put a plastic cover over the pie she'd just finished, marking it with 'Mixed Berries' and putting it in the fridge.

"All's fair in love and war, Dean-O," she said cryptically.

 

Throughout the rest of the day, Dean was on edge, jumping at the slightest sound, just waiting for Gabriel to pop up and throw him into TV Land again or something. Sam couldn't blame him. The trickster had taken a real shine to Angela, especially after Cas had told him about the Great Prank War. He'd been all too gleeful after the seraph had told him about the Icy Hot aftershave. He couldn't wait to hear of Angela's latest prank, claiming that the young woman had true Trickster potential.

However, the girl had been the picture of innocence, even handing Dean tools as he worked on Baby, teaching her the mechanics of a car. Of course, whenever she 'accidentally' dropped a wrench, Dean would jump at the loud clanging and hit his head on the Impala's underside.

Sam waited all day for the sound of Dean's surprised, "Son of a bitch!", but it never came. There were no fires, no explosions-- which, knowing Angela and Dean, wasn't too far out there-- and no strings of curses flung at each other. It was quiet. Peaceful. Still.

Unnerving.

It was definitely too quiet, like the calm before the storm.... Sam could practically feel the currents in the wind, the tension building even as Dean relaxed, letting his guard down slowly. By the time dinner rolled around, the two were laughing and poking fun at each other good naturedly, cooking together... another normal day.

Sam was beginning to think that Angela really had let the war die down and was going to let bygones be bygones.

He was dead wrong.

They had finished cleaning the kitchen and Angela retired up to her room, the sketch book Sam had given her in hand, already half filled with different drawings. Some of the pages were stuffed with actual pictures, like it was a personal photo album. Sam was glad to see that she'd been using it almost religiously. Anymore, if she wasn't helping him do research or cooking, she was drawing.

Dean had mozied back into the kitchen while Sam sat at the table, laptop open to search for werewolf attacks around Garth's area; ever since the whole Ragnarok thing, they'd been keeping close tabs on the pack.

The older Winchester opened the fridge and let out a small victory cry before pulling out the mixed berries pie, cutting himself a large slice.

"Say what y'want about the kid," he grinned, plopping a large dollop of whipped cream on top of it, "but she can flat out make a damn good pie."

Sam rolled his eyes; how his brother could eat again so soon after dinner was beyond him.

"You wanna piece?"

"No, Dean. Unlike you, I don't have to eat every five minutes."

Dean scoffed and plopped into the chair across from him, digging into the pie happily.

"I swear to God, you're living proof that air has calories," he said, then frowned down at his pie. He licked his lips as a light sheen of sweat appeared above his brow. Slowly, he took another large bite, wiping his brow, then dropped the fork, screaming. "GOD IN HELL!"

Sam jumped, eyes wide as he looked at his brother, whose face was red and pouring sweat. The older hunter looked down at the pie like it had betrayed him, then ran to the sink and grabbed the sprayer, spraying water into his mouth, tears running down his face.

"Dean, what the hell?"

From upstairs, there came a bubbly, evil laugh and Sam knew.

"SHE DID SOMETHING TO THE PIE!"

Sam sighed and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling, trying hard not to laugh, then got up to leave. He paused to look at his brother, futilely pouring water into his mouth like an idiot.

"That's not gonna help, Dean."

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU SUGGEST I DO!?"

Sam arched a brow, then said calmly, "If it's spicy, then milk will take out the bite. Bread helps, too."

He left the kitchen, still holding the laughter at bay as he made his way to the stairs.

"WHAT KIND OF WORLD IS IT WHEN A MAN CAN'T EVEN TRUST HIS PIE!?"

Sam shook his head, then knocked lightly on Angela's half-opened door, peaking in to see her grinning, curled up in a chair, sketch book in her lap as she drew, biting her lip. His eyes darted down to her lips, perky, cute and pink, clamped gently between her teeth as she smiled....

He blinked as she looked up, a full blown smile on her face.

"Yes?" she drawled innocently.

"What--" He stopped to take a deep breath, unable to keep from laughing at his brother's well-deserved suffering in the kitchen. "What-- exactly did you-- do to-- the pie?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, seriously, eyes wide in her so-called innocence. "All I did was try a new recipe for a mixed berry pie I found online.... Habaneros and cayenne berries...."

Sam blinked at the young woman, a slow, evil grin spreading across her face and he couldn't help it. He laughed and, soon, Angela's girlish, belly rolling laugh joined his own, deep chortle.

"SCREW YOU BOTH!"

 


	4. God's Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, this was my original idea for Angela becoming a prophet, but it seemed a little over the top, and I decided to go with a more subtle idea. However, I thought I'd go ahead and share this with y'all. It's set right after Sam finds Angie after she ran out of the bunker, and right before they started to head back, Chuck showed up and told them HE was the reason she couldn't get home.

Sam burst into the bunker, a screaming and sobbing Angela in his arms. She was hysterical, writhing and clawing at her face.

"Stop! Make it stop!" she screamed.

"Gabriel! Cas! Help!" Sam bellowed.

There was a sudden flurry of people, Charlie at the forefront, angels and hunter right behind her.

"What happened?"

"Sammy, what's goin' on?"

"Angela?"

"Kiddo, breathe, please!"

" _No!_ He's going to kill her! Somebody, help her!" she screamed.

"Sam, what _happened!?"_

"Chuck?"

He felt Angela go stiff in his arms before she whirled around and let out a small gasp/whimper. He wanted to laugh at that; the girl had faced warlocks, demons and had thrown an archangel into his kitchen, and she was afraid of _Chuck_?

Of course... the prophet was supposed to be _dead_. Instantly, he was in front of the woman, reaching for the gun he didn't have. _Shit!_

"Hey, Sam," the shorter man grinned. "Long time, no see."

"What the hell, Chuck!?" Sam snapped. Angela tugged at his arm.

"Sam," she whispered.

"Where the hell have you been, man? We thought you were _dead_!"

" _Sam._ "

"The details of my death were... exaggerrated, it would seem." The man grinned and spread his arms wide. "Come on, Sam. I'm not dead, I swear. No ghost, no demon, no shapeshifter."

"Right," Sam said sarcastically. _Shit!_ He was out in the open, no weapons and Angela was hiding behind him, absolutely fucking _terrified!_

Wait....

He turned to her, thankful, for once, that she was a fan of _Supernatural_.

"Is Chuck dead?" he asked quickly. She shook her head vigorously, eyes wide. She just kept staring at the not-dead prophet. He'd take her word for it, but he wasn't about to relax... not yet, not with Angela in danger. "Tell me only something Chuck would know."

'Chuck' rolled his eyes.

"You and Dean once caught me trying to order a hooker on-line."

He felt Angela jerk lightly at that and turned to see her blushing a bright red, despite the cold of the rain.

"What are you doing out here, Chuck?" Sam asked after a minute.

" _Sam."_ He finally looked to Angela, trying to figure out what was wrong. "Chuck's not dead, but Chuck isn't _Chuck_."

He was instantly on guard again, arm out, pushing Angela further behind him. Chuck grinned at her.

"See, I knew I liked you, kiddo," he said happily. "I knew when Gabriel pulled you here that you'd be perfect."

"The hell are you talking about?" he asked, confused. He felt Angela tense up behind him and clutch at his arm. "Look, Chuck, it's... great to see you and all, but you're seriously freaking Ange out over here."

"Right, right, the whole warlock thing," Chuck said, waving his hand. Sam stiffened; had Chuck always been a dick? If he knew about Lucas and what he'd done to Angela, then he should at _least_ refrain from throwing it in her face. "Yeah, no, sorry about that, kiddo. Things kinda spun outta control before I could intervene; I _was_ able to transmit your prayer to Cas though so he could follow it to you."

"Oh... um, thanks, uh, thank you," she whispered. "Things... things were gettin' kinda hairy."

"Yeah, well, I couldn't let my new prophet get hurt _too_ badly, could I?"

" _Prophet!?_ "

"What're you talking about?" Sam reeled. His head was spinning and he was confused as hell. "What's going on? Angela?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No. No, no, no, no, _no!_ I can't be your prophet! I'm nobody."

"Angela, what's going on?" Sam demanded, a sinking feeling in his gut.

"Chuck isn't Chuck," she repeated, her eyes wide and misty. "Chuck... he was never a prophet. I didn't know until _Swan Song_... never realized... but then he was gone, but not _gone...._ It's how I know God is still here, just not as involved." Sam went still. "Chuck _is God._ "

 

Screaming. She kept screaming. Sobbing. Begging them to help the girl only she could see.

And Sam couldn't do anything. He just held her tight as Cas and Gabe did everything they could, trying their hardest to heal her, to fix what wasn't really broken. She wasn't broken. She wasn't hurt.

She was filled with the Word of God.

 

"You're _God_?"

"Hey, now," Chuck-- God-- _he_ said a little uncomfortably. "Let's just stick with 'Chuck' for now, 'kay? And no getting star struck."

"...."

"What?"

"You're _God!?_ "

"Yes, Sam, okay? I'm God. Happy?" He rolled his-- His?-- eyes and turned back to Angela. "And, yeah, you might _think_ you're nobody, but I'm tellin' you now: you're _not_." He stepped closer and Sam automatically put himself further between them. Chuck just looked at him, an irritated expression on his face. "Sam, man, you're great and all, but, seriously, don't make me mojo your ass. This is heavenly business."

"Don't touch her!"

Chuck sighed, then flicked his fingers at Sam. He yelled out as he was flung away and pinned to a tree by an invisible force.

"Sam!" Angie screamed. She made to move towards him but was blocked.

Chuck walked towards her, palms out.

"Hey, now, Angela," he said soothingly. "You know me."

"No," she protested. "I know _my_ God. You- you're not real... none of this is real."

"Angela, you know this is all real," he scolded gently. "If it wasn't, then that would mean that this, _all_ of this, is in your head. You know what that means, right? It would mean you were insane."

"Better to be insane than to have monsters on your trail," she whispered weakly. Sam pulled against the tree, trying to get to her.

"Ange, sweetheart," he said gently. "I've heard your prayers. You beg every night for me to let you stay just a little bit longer. You-- yes, you do." He laughed, but it was gentle, indulging, as she shook her head vehemently. He bent down to whisper something in her ear, and her face flushed, eyes darting away in embarrassment.

"Don't-- please..." she whispered, beging him with her eyes.

"Angela, I would never do anything to hurt you," Chuck promised. "I remember when you first _really_ started to believe in me. I wanted so badly to take you from that place, but I couldn't intervene. Free will and all that."

 

She didn't sleep. She wasn't screaming anymore, but she didn't sleep. She just laid there on the couch, cocooned in blankets, eyes wide, pupils dialated. Sweat shone on her brow and she shook violently. Her eyes darted around the room in a panic, not really seeing anything.

Sam's hand trembled as he stroked her hair, still soaking wet from the rain.

"Ange," he whispered. "C'mon, Ange... snap out of it... _please_...."

 

" _Please_...." Angela begged. "I- I don't want this... I can't _be_ this!"

"But you are," Chuck insisted.

"But... all the prophets are preordained... I can't-- _you_ can't--"

"Hon, I'm God. At least, a piece of his conciousness."

"What?" She shook her head. "I- I don't understand."

Chuck sighed.

"I'm only a _part_ of God, Angela, a fragment. God is everywhere, omnipresent, but... well, each universe needs its own deity, its own creator. Here, _I'm_ that part. That's the easiest way I can explain it."

"That- that makes sense, I guess," she said hesitantly.

"Good," he said happily, then clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Now, let's get this show on the road."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she yelped, leaning away from him. "I- what are you doing?"

"Will you hold still?" Chuck griped. He grasped her forehead and pressed his palm into the center, right above and between her eyebrows. She gasped, but didn't move. "This'll only take a minute."

"Angela!" Sam strained against the invisible bonds holding him to the tree.

"Pipe down, Sam," he grumbled. "It's just a blessing, okay? She needs to be prepared to take on my Word."

"No!" he yelled. All he could think of was Kevin and how he'd died because of his prophetic ability to translate some stupid tablets. "She doesn't want this! What about free will!?"

"Free will is about taking the gifts you've been given and doing what you will," Chuck said grimly as the young woman trembled absently under his glowing hand. "Just look at you. You had demon blood coursing through your veins, but you tried to use it to help people. Granted, you started the _apocalypse_... but that's a minor detail."

"Dammit, Chuck, don't _do_ this! Just think of when you actualy _were_ Chuck! Didn't you hate every minute of it?"

"Of course I did," he snapped. "Don't you hate being a hunter? Does that stop you from taking care of your responsibilities? I have to do my part, whether or not you think I do, Winchester, and part of that is making sure there's a prophet."

"You have six or seven prophets already lined up and prepared for what they're going to get into!" he protested loudly. He had to get to Angela!

"None of them are as prepared as Angela is. She knows what she's getting into, and she has _some_ idea as to how to protecting herself. Besides, she's already got you, your brother, Castiel and Gabriel looking out for her. How much trouble could she get into?"

She gasped, then let out a gutteral scream as her eyes went wide and glowed with a golden light.

" _Sam!"_

 

"S-Sam...."

"I'm here, Ange," Sam promised, patting her brow with a cool rag. He frowned as she grimaced. "I'm here. I've got you, angel."

"This... sucks...." she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. He laughed softly despite himself.

"I bet," he said.

"How're you feeling?"

"... not very prophet-y, to be honest."

"Yeah, well... give it a couple days and you should be up and going," he teased weakly.

"Least _now_ we... know why I... got stuck," she murmurred. "Why I... can't go home...."

 

" _Angela!"_

Sam watched helplessly as she crumpled to the ground at Chuck's feet. As soon as she hit the ground, the force holding Sam released him and he ran to her side, dropping to his knees next to her and pulling her into his arm. Her face was pale and her eyes were shut tight.

"Angela? C'mon, sweetheart, talk to me," he pleading, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Get her home, Sam," Chuck said, turning to walk away. "And take good care of her. She's gonna need you."

"Chuck- Chuck, _please--_ " Sam looked up, but Chuck was already gone, and he was sitting in the mud, holding the new Prophet of the Lord in his arms.

 


	5. Spazzy

 

 

Concerning Spazzy... Angie may or may not have learned a thing or two from Sam....


	6. AND YOU DIDN'T //CALL// ME!?!?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie's still a little shocked by the change in her relationship with Sam, so she decides to talk it out with Charlie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I apologize in advance for this bit of pure fluff. I'd thought about making this chapter one of the sequel, but it didn't seem to fit. And, anyway, I wanted to kind of see how Charlie would react :P

 

_So... um... something happened_

_Uh oh_

_Good smth or bad smth?_

_Nothin bad_

_I mean, if you really look at it it's good_

_Just kinda surprising_

_Okay, spill_

_What's goin on??_

_Angie?_

_Yeah, still here_

_..._

_Just gimme a second_

_Well shit_

_It's big, isn't it?_

I blushed and bit my lip, glancing up at Sam, who was laughing in the front seat at something Cas had said. He met my gaze in the mirror and his eyes softened, and the warmth there had me smiling.

I grinned and glanced back down at my phone.

_Oh, yeah_

_It's big all right_

_Well??_

_You gonna keep me hangin or what??_

_...._

_I slept with Sam_

_Charlie??_

_!!!_

_hOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHITBALLS_

_WHAT!?_

_R U SRS RIGHT NOW!?!?_

_ANGELA LYNN CROSSE, YOU'D BETTER_  
_NOT BE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW_

I laughed at that, my phone buzzing at the sudden influx of messages.

_Whoa, geez, calm your tits, lmao_

_ANGE THIS IS HUGE!_

_WHEN!?_

_Umm...._

_Last night?_

_!!!_

_AND YOU DIDN'T FRACKING **CALL** ME!?_

_i THOUGHT WE WERE BROS!?_

_I want the whole scoop, I_  
_wanna know what_  
_happened, when, HOW_

_Okay, I am so **not** gonna give you the Talk_

_Middle school shoulda covered that one_

_ANGIE!!_

_Okay, okay_

_It was a kelpie_

_...._

_Ange, I asked you about_  
_your hook up with Sam, not some_  
_monster you three were hunting_

_It. Was. A. Kelpie._

_It targeted Sam and used_  
_me to get to him. I freaked the fuck_  
_out when it pulled him under the water._  
_Skip to the next day, the guys_  
_took me out for a surprise birthday "Thank_  
_God We're Still Alive" dinner_  
_ & we went to a drive in._

 _Dean and Cas went to their_  
_room, and me & Sam went to ours_  
_and...._

_And?_

_AND!?_

_WHAT HAPPENED!?_

_Stuff._

_Stuff happened._

_A.N.G.I.E._

_C.H.A.R.L.I.E._

_YOU CAN'T JUST DO THAT TO_  
_ME, YOU HAVE TO TELL ME_  
_WHAT HAPPENED!!_

 _I am **not** gonna tell_  
_you what went down_

_That's for me & sam_

_But... uh... it was good. REALLY_  
_good :P_

_ANGIE!!!_

_So, are you guys a thing_  
_now? Like, it's wasn't a_  
_wam-bam-thank-you,_  
_ma'am, whirlwind deal, was_  
_it?_

_wow._

_Thanks, Char._

_Sorry_

_Yeah, no, we..._  
_I THINK so?_

_I didn't exactly ask_

_You don't just **ask  
** that, do you?_

_Wooow..._

_You really ARE an awkward_  
_little fluff, aren't you?_

 _How the HELL did you_  
_get Dean and Cas_  
_together?_

_TBH, I have **no** idea_

_But, hey, it worked, and_  
_things are going_  
_AWESOME w/_  
_them_

 _Ok, but what about_  
_you & Sam??_

 _Pretty sure we're together...._  
_I just... ??_

 _Hell yeah, we're together,_  
_and nothing's changing_  
_that anytime soon_

_O...kaaaay???_

_Hey, Charlie_

_!!!!_

"Sam!" I yelped, trying to reach over the seat to grab my phone out of his hands. "Give that back!" I leaned over his shoulder and he grabbed my face gently and turned me so that he could plant a firm kiss on my lips, sweet and gentle. I felt my face heat up, but smiled against his lips.

"We _are_ together, Ange," he said softly after he pulled away. "And I wouldn't have asked anything from you if... I _love_ you, angel."

I blushed and hid my face in his shoulder and started to say, _yeah, but **why**_? before Dean interrupted.

"Hey, now, no chick flick moments," he teased. "No mush in the car, or you two are walkin' your asses back to Lebanon."

"Shut up, Dean," I grumbled, then turned back to Sam. I wanted to ask _why_ , but his smile stopped me, because, honestly? It didn't _matter_. I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his neck. "And I love you, too. Now, gimme my phone, ya goof." I quickly plucked it out of his hands and sat back, grinning and biting my lip.

_Hey, Char, y'still there?_

_DUDE, WTF JUST_  
_HAPPENED!?_

I looked up once more and smiled at Sam. I seriously hadn't thought I'd end up falling in love with the guy, but that's what I'd been doing since day one. Since he'd helped me buy clothes, since he'd saved me from Lucas, helping me to recover and giving me space when I needed it. Holding me close with warm, strong arms, or just listening when I needed to talk.

Of course, I hadn't banked on him feeling the same way about _me_ , but was I going to look a gift horse in the mouth? _Hell,_ no. He _saw_ something in me worth loving-- or, at least, _caring_ about.

So, what just happened?

I smiled again, then quickly texted Charlie back.

 _My boyfriend hijacked my phone,_  
_that's what happened._

 


	7. Costumes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why? Why did she let //Charlie// pick it out? Why, why, why, why, WHY!?!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, this was written forever ago and I think I might have been out of my head with the flu.... I //vaguely// remember being sick, so, please, have this.
> 
> Also, set some time after SWW, don't know exactly //when//, but Sam and Angie are together in this chapter, too. I'm only adding because the dates in the story aren't going to be chronological, so I might skip around with deleted scenes and stuff.
> 
> *Leaves chapter and hides in a corner*

I cringed at the red and black suit, custom made and rush ordered online, thanks to Charlie. I pulled at the skintight fabric that left very little to the imagination uncertainly, wishing I could have gone with something a bit more... modest. I didn't like how the material hugged me in places no woman should ever be hugged. My boobs, my waist... my ass. Everything accentuated and pushed up.

  
"Hurry up!" Charlie called from the hallway, already in her costume. "Come on, it isn't that bad."

  
I scowled, then peeked out of the bathroom door, hiding behind it.

  
"Easy for you to say," I griped at her. "You're wearing armor and boots."

  
"Okay, it's not actually armor," she quipped. "It's a bullet proof vest, custom cut to resemble Barbara Gordon's Batgirl uniform."

  
"Yeah," I said dryly. "Ar.Mor."  
"Oh, come on, Angie! It can't really be that bad."

  
"You don't get it!" I complained. "You've got the vest, the boots, the cape, the utility belt... Me? I've got a freakin' second skin!"

"It's not that tight."

  
I glared at her.

  
"Have _you_ tried squeezing into it?"

"No, but we made sure to get all your measurements right. Besides, we have to be at the party in like, fifteen minutes; there's no time for you to change."

  
"Why did it have to be themed?" I whined, still hiding behind the door.

  
"Because themes are awesome! Besides, your face paint looks good. The head gear's good, too. I'm glad we decided to go with the traditional Harley."

  
"I would've preferred the Injustice Insurgent Harley," I grumbled.

  
"Yeah, but you look better like this. Insurgent Harley just had too much going on, and the original Harley in the game was showing _way_ too much skin for you to be comfortable, so--"

  
"So you thought I'd like this better?" I snapped. "I might as well just paint myself black and red and go naked!"

  
"Who's going naked?"

  
We turned to see Dean climbing the stairs and I groaned, hitting my forehead against the bathroom door. Repeatedly.

  
"Kid?"

  
"What?" I snapped.

  
"What's wrong?"

  
"What's _wrong?_ Seriously? You're the goddamned _Batman;_ you're supposed to be the world's greatest detective!" I crossed my arms over my chest and stepped out from behind the door, scowling. "What do you _think_ is wrong?"

  
Dean's eyes almost popped out of his head as he took in the skintight Harley Quinn costume that had been all but adhered to my body. My face was painted white and a black mask was plastered across my cheek bones, my lips a dark red, almost black and _there were diamonds on my ass_.

  
"Damn, Angie," Dean said, trying to keep his eyes on my face, the costume drawing even my eyes to some strange places. I blushed under the white paint. "I gotta say, it's good t'see ya outta that hoodie, but... damn, kid." I groaned. "What?"

"Can't I be someone else? Like, maybe Raven?"

  
"Kid, we gotta leave for the party in fifteen minutes. We don't have time."

  
"It'll be cold out," I protested, trying to find an excuse not to wear this monstrosity.

  
"So?"

  
I sent him a pointed look.

  
"Do ya really want me shinin' my high beams on everyone?"

  
"Girl, it's padded. Don't worry about it," Charlie said, grinning at me.

  
I huffed.

  
"Can I at least put on some underwear?" I asked, stalling. "Some _real_ underwear?"

  
"G-strings are real underwear," Charlie protested. "Besides, you don't want a panty-line, do you?"

  
I blushed harder, my paint taking on a light pink tinge.

  
"I wouldn't have to worry about that if you'd ordered the Insurgent Harley!"

  
Dean, the poor guy, had to listen to the two of us banter about bras and G-strings and other female articles of clothing. I could see the discomfort behind his Batman mask. I was dead serious earlier about him being Batman. It was all Charlie's idea, the Gotham theme. I was Harley, she was Batgirl, Dean was Batman and Sam was the Joker. Cas, if he showed up, was going as Commissioner Gordon, the whole ruffled trench coat/ suit thing already taken care of. There was no way he was going to dress up as any fictional character, and there was no telling what Charlie and Dean would have picked out for him.

  
"Guys, are you ready? We gotta leave, like--"

  
Sam stopped at the top of the stairs, right behind his brother, staring at me, eyes wide. I sucked my lips in, trying to keep from laughing out loud at him. His hair was slicked back and sprayed green, his face was white, like mine, and he had the trademark Joker smile/ scars painted onto his mouth and cheeks. The purple and green pinstriped suit with vertical stripes made him look taller and more gangly and--

  
He was the most ridiculous Joker I'd ever seen, if I was honest.

  
I grinned, unable to resist. I waved flirtily at him, then winked.

  
"Hiyah, Mistah Jay," I said in my most nasally voice, doing a damn good impression of Harley. "Ya ready t'hit the town, puddin'?"  
Charlie and Dean laughed out loud and Sam just blinked, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

"I think ya broke 'im, kid," Dean teased.

We all laughed at that, then I turned back to Charlie.

  
"You really think this is okay, though?" I asked, knowing we didn't have enough time for me to change.

  
"You look fine, Ange," Charlie said.

  
"And she does mean _fine,"_ Dean teased, drawing out the word.

  
"Dean," Sam snapped, glaring at his brother as I groaned and hid behind the door again.

  
"You got your hammer?" Charlie asked helpfully and I sighed, reaching off to the side to grab a comically large rubber hammer.  
"Yeah," I said, pouting. Sam walked over and patted my shoulder comfortingly.

  
"Hey, look on the bright side," he said brightly. "You get pissed off at Dean, we can always--" he leaned in and grinned maniacally, "-- _kill the Batman."_

I laughed, snorting really, then laid the hammer over my shoulder and latched myself onto his arm in true Harley Quinn fashion.

  
"Oh, Mistah Jay," I laughed, "you always have the swellest ideas, puddin'!"

  
Charlie laughed, then turned as 'Batman' ran to the end of the staircase, posing heroically.

  
"It's time to go!" he yelled, grabbing his prop grappling hook from his utility belt. "This town needs me!"

  
"Dean, wait, no!" Charlie yelled, grabbing for the Dark Hunter's cape before he broke his neck trying to grapple his way down the stairs. "It's not a real grappling hook!"

  
Before any of us could do anything, he jumped down the stairs, barrel rolling down the steps, Charlie running after the idiot. I sighed, then walked with Sam as he shook his head.

  
"Ya know, puddin," I said thoughtfully, "we may not hafta kill Batsy afta all. His sheer stupidity might do it for us."

  
Sam nodded in agreement and wrapped his arm around me. I smiled then held my hammer behind my back and skipped childishly at his side as we walked down the stairs to join the others.

  
Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hides face behind hands*  
> I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!! Gah, I don't know what I was THINKING!!!!
> 
> Also, disclaimer: I in NO way approve of the Joker/Harley pairing and recognize that it is an abusive relationship.
> 
> Also, in hindsight, I feel like I should have made Sam Nightwing.... That image just kinda does things to me :3


	8. Wrong Link!

Okay, so, it says here that you wanna try to open up a conversation by asking the person their opinion on a pretty common subject, then go from there." The girl frowned, then sighed. "Okay, that's for getting to know them. You already know Dean, so we can-- wait... what's thi-- Oh, God!"

[[x]](http://www.ask-angie-stuff.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!! Me again!! Just letting y'all know again about the ask-angie blog, which you can get to by clicking the link below the picture <3


End file.
